Bull's Eye
by wessiewoo
Summary: When Divya finds a Physician Assistant to replace her, she's finally struck with the consequences of leaving HankMed for a loveless marriage. Divya/Evan
1. Chapter 1

Bull's Eye

Chapter 1

Divya stabbed her fork into the honeydew in her fruit salad with a little more force than was absolutely necessary, but nothing else about her demeanor suggested that she was at all uncomfortable interviewing the other young woman at the table as a replacement for her own job. Divya appeared masterfully calm, a skill that she had developed over her many years of formal family engagements and stifling Hamptons' society.

This skill was particularly useful now, because although the many other potential candidates had not passed her high standards, Divya seemed to have finally met a woman with all the pertinent criteria to become Hank's new Physician Assistant, something that simultaneously aggravated and relieved Divya. Thank God she wouldn't have to interview any more candidates for the job. She had just about given up hope when the last applicant had dragged her to McDonald's for lunch, eating three hamburgers as she explained the importance of fitness and nutrition to a dumbfounded Divya.

At least this candidate, a charming and pretty young brunette, had enough etiquette to take her interviewer to a restaurant with candles on the table, not napkin dispensers.

"Ginger, you have a very impressive résumé," said Divya. "What made you want to become a Physician Assistant?" Divya slowly sipped her glass of sparkling water as the Ginger began to chatter about inspirational professors and her unwavering desire to help people. Divya observed the woman, disappointed that the she seemed to be extremely qualified to be Hank's new PA.

Ginger Hackett had been a paramedic in Albany for a few years before she took the Physician Assistant National Certifying Examination, which she, like Divya, had passed with flying colors. She had worked at a few hospitals in New York, but was now interested in a job as the Physician Assistant to a concierge doctor. Apparently, she wanted to work for Hank because she wanted to connect with her patients more and was fascinated by the unique opportunities that a concierge doctor business provided, but Divya had a shrewd suspicion that her interest was also due to the pay increase and the lure of the Hamptons' many beaches.

Divya knew that she should be paying closer attention to Ginger, but couldn't summon the will. Ginger's excitement seemed only to worsen Divya's melancholy. She knew that she had volunteered for it, but searching for her own replacement for HankMed was incredibly depressing. Not only was she going to leave the best job she'd ever had, she was also going to move away from her home and friends to marry a man that she was only friends with. Divya thought that she had finally made peace with her situation, but this interview was forcing her to reconsider her feelings toward the impending nuptials that would take her away from almost everything that was important to her.

Ginger seemed impervious to Divya's gloom as she cheerfully completed what would have been a very charming anecdote about the hectic life of a paramedic if Divya had been paying better attention. Divya knew that her smile did not look genuine, but Ginger didn't seem to notice. "So, what do you think, Ms. Katdare?" Ginger asked cheerfully. "Is HankMed interested in hiring me?"

Divya tried to objectively assess Ginger as a potential candidate. She had the credentials, experience, and enthusiasm necessary for the job. She was friendly and Divya could tell that she would have the compassion and good bedside manner that she needed to be a successful PA. Hank would like her; Ginger obviously was very excited about the concierge business, and seemed to be genuinely interested in HankMed's combination of medical expertise and improvisation. All of her past employers had raved about her dedication, intelligence, and charm, all of which were very important while serving the rich and famous of the Hamptons.

Evan would like Ginger as well…maybe too much. Ginger's bubbly personality and sense of humor showed even in the face of Divya's dour mood. Also, and perhaps more importantly for Evan, Ginger's gently waving mahogany hair and bigger…erm… _sweaters_ would definitely draw Evan's attention, whether it was wanted or not. Divya tried to ignore the pang of jealousy that she felt in her stomach as she thought about Evan giving her replacement the attention that had once gone to her…but that was nonsense. Hadn't she always wanted Evan to focus on something—_anything_ other than her personal or professional life?

Divya hadn't realized when her outlook toward Evan had changed. The usual feelings of annoyance had shifted toward ones of friendship and ease. She began to look forward to the time they would spend together instead of dreading his incessant and obnoxious commentary on everything. Naturally, she couldn't actually _tell _him that she valued him as anything more than an irritating coworker. Divya still had to belittle him at every possible moment, just to make sure that these feelings of camaraderie didn't progress any further.

But those stupid, unnecessary feelings already had progressed further than was safe despite all her precautions, and no amount of insulting him could halt the leap in her heart and the nausea that followed whenever she saw his insufferable smirk.

It was ridiculous. Evan and Divya were incompatible. They would never reach any sort of level past the wobbly friendship that they had established. Evan was not interested in Divya, or any woman, beyond the length of their legs or the size of their chests. And, more importantly, Divya was engaged to another man, one that was thankfully without the terrible jokes and sideburns.

Raj was also without the ability to make her palms sweat, but Divya was certain she could live with that.

Besides, Divya thought, her feelings toward Evan, whatever they were, would only serve to impair her decision-making. She needed to be completely free from bias when deciding the very future of HankMed. Divya refused to let any ridiculous notions of partiality get in the way of her choices.

She was leaving in less than two months. So what if Evan fell for this very intelligent, beautiful, and upbeat girl? Even if Divya did care about Evan's love life—which she vehemently did not—she would be on an entirely different continent in less than two months, blissfully unaware of any flirting or not-so-innocent touching between the new PA and the CFO.

"Ginger, I think that you may have a future at HankMed," smiled Divya as she twisted her napkin in her hands. "And please, call me Divya."


	2. Chapter 2

Bull's Eye

Chapter 2

On their way to the Lawson household from the restaurant, Divya could sense that Ginger wanted to ask her something. "Divya, I don't mean to pry, but…" Ginger hesitated, crinkling her brow. "Why are you leaving HankMed? If it's for personal reasons I will completely understand if you don't answer. I just wanted to know if I should be worried about anything if I get a job with Dr. Lawson."

Divya tightened her grip slightly on the steering wheel, watching the road in front of her rather than face Ginger's inquisitive gaze. She breathed in deeply before answering calmly, "I'm leaving because I'm moving to London in less than two months."

"London! How exciting! Are you from there? Your accent fits right in."

"Oh, no. I've lived in the Hamptons all my life. My parents are from there, so I suppose I just picked up their accent growing up." Divya bit her lip and continued, "I'm actually moving there to marry my fiancée."

Ginger's squeal of excitement reached what Divya considered to be a very irritating pitch. "Oh, a wedding! In London, of all things! How romantic!"

"Yes," muttered Divya. "Quite."

A few more minutes of silence passed before Ginger timidly asked, "If you don't mind me asking, what are the Lawson brothers like? "

Divya smiled gently. "No need to fear; they're not scary in the slightest. Hank—and he'd rather that you call him Hank, not Dr. Lawson—is an extremely talented and innovative doctor. He's the unofficial MacGyver of medicine," Divya grinned. "He's is grounded and calm under pressure, and fights for what he believes in, no matter what the cost. He's a good boss, and a better friend."

"And Evan Lawson?"

Divya bit the inside of her cheek. How on earth could she begin to describe Evan when she couldn't even sort out her own feelings toward him? "Well… He's a competent accountant and CFO, I suppose. He can talk his way into or out of almost anything, which is good, because he gets into the worst sort of mischief sometimes," Divya smirked. "Despite his flaws, which are many and glaring, he is kind. And very loyal to both Hank and HankMed." Divya glanced at Ginger, who was looking back with an arched brow, and blushed. "You mustn't let him know that I told you this though. In fact, as part of your duties as HankMed's potential new P.A., you really should know that Evan needs almost constant verbal abuse."

"What? Why?"

"He is infuriatingly arrogant, you know. The last thing his already swollen ego needs is a compliment from me."

Ginger looked startled and said, "I think I'll hold off on the insults until I'm actually hired."

Gravel crunched underneath the tires of Divya's massive SUV as she smoothly parked in front of Boris' guest house. She hopped out of the truck and walked toward the Lawsons' home, Ginger nervously following. Divya rapped sharply on the door a few times, and only had to wait a few moments until Hank opened the door. "Hello, Divya," Hank greeted warmly. "And who is this?"

"This," said Divya, gesturing behind her, "Is Ginger Hackett, the woman that I'm fairly certain will be your new Physician Assistant."

Hank looked at Divya in surprise. "Really? You finally found someone that met your standards? I'm shocked," he chuckled. He waved an arm inside and said, "Come on in, Evan's just finished making lunch." Even the casual mention of his name caused Divya's pulse to speed up, and she internally chastised her own self-indulgence as she and Ginger entered.

Hank shook hands with Ginger and said, "It's very nice to meet you, Ginger. If Divya says that you're up to the job, then I'm sure you will be. I'm Hank, and my brother is—"

"Evan R. Lawson, CFO of HankMed." Divya's head swiveled toward the voice. Evan stood behind the stove, shoveling several thick grilled cheese sandwiches from a pan onto plates. "Anyone hungry?"

Ginger and Divya shook their heads, but Hank happily sat down at the table and began to eat. Evan wiped his buttery fingers on a towel hanging from his waistband before walking over and shaking Ginger's hand. "If I overheard correctly, you must be our new P.A."

Ginger, who seemed much more relaxed than before, smiled and said, "Well, Hank hasn't actually offered me a job yet. But I'm very interested in the position." As she and Evan made more friendly conversation, Divya's level of despair crept up a notch. It was already happening—Evan was falling in love with Ginger. It was obvious. _Fine_, Divya thought, sitting on their couch and crossing her arms tightly across her chest. _Fine. See if I care._

She was fuming over how little she cared about Evan's pathetic excuse of a love life when she heard Ginger mention her name. "…and Divya was saying on the drive over that I really shouldn't worry about you two being awful."

Evan glanced at Divya, glee unmistakably written on his face. "Divya said I wasn't awful? That doesn't sound like her," he chortled. "What else did she say?"

Divya leapt up and rushed to intervene. "Ginger, don't—" But Ginger was already laughing as she tried to remember.

"Hmm, I think she said that you were competent at your job…" Evan shot Divya a face that clearly showed that he was not overwhelmed with her praise. "…And she mentioned that you were kind and loyal…Oh, and she definitely said that you were a smooth-talker."

Evan looked ecstatic. Divya held her head in her hands and sank back onto the couch. Ginger looked between the two of them amusedly for a few moments before Hank called her over to discuss the details of her new position. As Ginger sat down on a chair beside Hank, Evan sat down extremely close to Divya, invading her personal space in a way she found very pleasurable and very unsettling. She could feel him smirking at her, even though her eyes were scrunched shut. "So," he said in a voice under which Divya heard barely disguised laughter, "You think I'm kind."

"I think you're tolerable," Divya mumbled, her face burning.

"And loyal."

"Shut up, Evan."

"And," he moved his lips closer to her ear, "You think I'm a smooth-talker." His voice was huskier than she had ever heard it before, and her stomach clenched unexpectedly.

"I was badly misquoted," she squeaked. Evan chuckled softly into her ear before getting off the couch and walking to sit with Hank and Ginger. Divya finally lifted her face from her hands and stared at him as he began to eat his sandwich. _What the hell was that? _Even the voice inside her head was breathless with shock.

Hank put his plate in the dishwasher and announced that he had agreed to hire Ginger on a trial basis because he wanted to observe her with a few patients before making any final decisions. Luckily, they had an appointment that morning with a patient. Divya shakily stood up and they all piled into her car. Evan whined a bit about not getting to finish the lunch that _he_ had cooked, but Divya couldn't chastise him properly, because her mind was still fixated on the heated rumble of his whisper in her ear.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm back home from vacation, so here is the latest update (finally). An important thing for my readers to realize: I am not a doctor. WebMD is where I get my medical information. While I tried to make this as accurate at possible, don't read this if any medical improbabilities are going to irritate you. Enjoy!

Bull's Eye

Chapter 3

"The patient's name is Paul McAvery," explained Hank while Divya sped down the highway. "He's a reasonably famous wildlife photographer. In fact, he just returned two weeks ago from a yearlong stint in Ghana, where he photographed wildebeest or something. According to the phone call I got this morning, his symptoms are," Hank stopped to check his notepad, "Abdominal cramps, muscle weakness, and some eye problems. He wasn't overly specific."

Divya parked in the driveway of a large beach house. The house itself was impressive, but the view of the cerulean ocean behind it was absolutely spectacular. As they all got out of the car, Evan whistled quietly and muttered, "Note to self: become a famous photographer." Hank and Divya smirked at each other.

Hank knocked loudly, but nobody came to the door. After trying once more, they heard a man call out, "Come in! The door's unlocked." Hank pushed open the door, and Hank, Ginger, Evan, and Divya quietly stepped inside.

The first thing any of them noticed was how dark it was inside the house. Divya could see that the windows were boarded up so that no light could escape into the interior. Once the door swung shut and they were left in complete darkness, she walked very carefully. Evan, however, didn't take the care that she did. He immediately tripped over something—knowing Evan's clumsiness, it easily could have been his own feet—and he collided sharply with Divya's back with a sharp, "OOF."

Divya barely managed to stay standing as he grabbed at her to regain his balance. "Evan!" she hissed. "Watch it!" His hands were firmly grasping her hips and waist as he pulled himself up, and Divya's back and shoulders tensed. The warmth from his fingers spread through her body like an electric shock, and the unwilling heat was compounded when he whispered his apology in her ear. _What is with this new whispering thing? _Divya thought indignantly. _That's twice in one morning… I'm not sure I can take it._

Once they reached Mr. McAvery's bedroom, their eyes had adjusted enough to see a slightly balding middle-aged man lying in bed, surrounded by dozens of nature magazines and camera equipment. "It took you long enough," he announced gruffly. "I heard you banging around in the entrance hall. I'll have you know that I need my rest, and I won't stand for the bunch of you disturbing me like that." He peered around at the four of them angrily, and muttered, "Don't know why all of you needed to come. I only need one doctor, for Chrissake."

Hank, as always, was unperturbed by the hostility of the greeting. "Mr. McAvery, I'm Dr. Hank Lawson. This is Divya Katdare, my physician assistant." Divya gave a small wave, and Hank continued, "And this is…uh… my other physician assistant, Ginger Hackett. She'll be examining you today." Ginger's beam of excitement quickly withered under Mr. McAvery's critical glare. "And this is my brother, although I'm not entirely sure why he's here—"

"Evan R. Lawson, CFO of HankMed." Evan eagerly tried to shake the patient's hand, but tripped again on the pages of a magazine. Without Divya to grab onto, he hurtled to the ground and landed with a loud _whump_ on the floorboards. Divya fought a smile as Evan stood up and dusted himself off, giving up on approaching the bed any further and said, "You know, I can't help but notice that it's extremely dark in here. Normally, I'm very graceful." Divya tried to disguise her burst of laughter as a cough, but could see Evan's glare in her direction even through the dim light.

"Yeah, it's dark, you dolt," Mr. McAvery sneered unpleasantly, obviously very unimpressed with the team so far. "That's on account of the eye sensitivity that I was explaining to the doctor earlier."

"Yes, sir," said Ginger bravely. "Would you mind telling us more about that and the other symptoms that you have been experiencing while I examine you?" Divya was impressed with Ginger's assertiveness. Mr. McAvery's grunt of assent allowed her to proceed. Hank and Divya calmly assessed her as she calmly and efficiently examined the patient, listening to his heart and lungs with a stethoscope and taking his pulse.

"Well," the patient began, "My stomach has been hurting something awful lately, and I've been feeling weak for a while. But it just could be the result of bad airplane food and not exercising. I didn't get worried until my eyesight started to change."

"Mm-hm," said Ginger, peering into his eyes with an opthamoloscope. "Change how?"

"I've always had good eyes. As a photographer, it's pretty important. But for the past couple of days, I've had some trouble with my vision. When I read, sometimes I can't see parts of words. When I look around, I can't see parts of objects either. Plus, my eyes are real sensitive to light now. That's why the windows are all darkened, as Mr. Graceful over there so keenly observed."

Ginger frowned. "I don't see any irregularities in the cornea or retina, Hank." She resumed her examination, asking, "Do you have a history of glaucoma, cataracts, or macular degeneration in your family?"

"No."

"Have you been drinking at all?"

He looked annoyed, but replied, "No. Four years sober."

Ginger smiled, "Congratulations. Have you suffered from any trauma lately, especially to your head?"

"Not that I can recall."

"Are you taking any medication right now?"

"No."

"Have you been bitten by any animals in the past several weeks?"

"Actually, yes."

Ginger stopped her examination of his ears. "Excuse me?" She cast a worried look at Hank and Divya. That was not the answer that any of them had expected.

Hank asked concernedly, "Can you tell us about the circumstances of the bite?"

Mr. McAvery grunted again, and said, "It was no big deal. Three weeks ago, when we were on safari, and I was photographing a particularly exquisite lioness, a stray dog bit me."

Hank's eyebrows scrunched together. "Did you get a rabies vaccination afterwards?"

"Yes," the patient responded, angrily. "What, you think I'm some kind of idiot? Once we got back from the safari, I went into a clinic and got the shot."

"How long after the bite was that?"

"About a week. It was right before I came back here."

Ginger abruptly halted her examination. Hank and Divya stared at Mr. McAvery in horror. Evan looked between the three of them and said anxiously, "That's okay, isn't it? He got the medicine, didn't he?"

"It only takes a couple of days for the vaccine to become almost completely ineffective," Hank said hollowly. "If that dog had rabies, and it wouldn't be surprising if it did, it could have easily passed the disease through a bite. Mr. McAvery is showing several signs of rabies, especially the photophobia." He swallowed before he said, "Without treatment almost immediately after the bite occurs, rabies is almost always fatal. Death usually occurs within a few weeks of the first signs of symptoms."

The room was absolutely silent. "There are still some options available if it is rabies, Mr. McAvery," Divya said quietly. "Studies have shown that some patients respond to an intensive drug regiment, or an induced coma or amputation—"

"No amputation," Mr. McAvery interrupted hoarsely. "No coma. Nothing that requires me to leave my home. I've been away too long from my home—I'm not leaving if it kills me." He looked at Divya sharply and breathed, "Are you sure that it's rabies?"

Divya and Hank glanced at each other uncertainly. "No," Hank said slowly. "We're not sure. But we'd like to take some samples for further analysis." Mr. McAvery was too shocked to do anything but nod shakily, so Hank asked, "Ginger, would you please take some blood samples and do a Lumbar Puncture?" Ginger jumped and began searching for the supplies in Hank's medical bag. Turning to Mr. McAvery again, Hank said, "It takes a few weeks for the tests for rabies to come back, but in the meantime we'll be looking for any other possible answers."

"A couple of weeks?" muttered Mr. McAvery viciously. "I could be dead by then. It'll be too late."

"Nonetheless, we'll be taking the samples to Hampton's Heritage. I'll also pick up some medicine while I'm there, then return here later this evening to start your treatment. In case it is rabies, the sooner we start you on the medication, the better."

"Just—be quick, please," murmured the man weakly. For the first time, there was no sound of irritation in his voice; there was only defeat. "I want to be alone."

Ginger hurriedly finished the tests, and they all whispered their condolences and goodbyes in the dark to the unresponsive patient. They tried to be as quick and quiet as they could as they left him alone in his house. The four of them felt very disturbed by the gruff man's unexpected potential disease, so none of them spoke while they got in the car.

Once they were safely on the road and away from the stunning beach house with the boarded-up windows, Hank broke the silence. "Our house is on the way to Hampton's Heritage, so let's drive there. We don't all have to go to Hampton's Heritage. I'll take Ginger with me to drop off the samples so I can show her around and introduce her to Jill." Divya nodded mutely.

Once they got to the Lawson's home, Ginger started packing Mr. McAvery's samples into the back of Hank's car. Hank took Divya to the side and said, "Despite the awfulness of this afternoon, I couldn't help but notice that Ginger seems very able to do the job."

"I agree. I'm glad that you're happy with my replacement."

"Divya, she might take your job, but she won't replace you." Divya smiled gratefully at Hank before he clambered into his car and drove away.

_What a lovely sentiment_, thought Divya as her gaze turned to Evan, who was dejectedly scuffing his shoes on the ground. _But I don't know if everyone feels that way._


	4. Chapter 4

Bull's Eye

Chapter 4

_Damn it all, _Divya thought in frustration. _This is embarrassing._

No matter how much she twisted her body, Divya couldn't pull up the zipper on the back of her sleek black dress. _Ugh. UGH. _

A few minutes after Hank and Ginger had left for Hampton's Heritage, Divya had looked at the clock and realized that she needed to get ready for tonight. She'd grabbed a suitcase from her trunk containing her dress and makeup, feeling smug at her own preparedness, and had locked herself in the bathroom so that she could change in private.

But now, she felt like a complete idiot. The zipper on the back of her dress was completely jammed, and her tugging wasn't yielding any results. A particularly vicious yank made her elbow bang against the wall, and Divya dropped the zipper and rubbed her eyes in aggravation.

"Divya?" Evan's worried voice made her jump in surprise, causing her to bang the same elbow into the wall again. "Are you okay in there?"

"Oh, yes, I'm perfectly alright," Divya lied, trying to sound cheerful and failing completely. "I'm just having problems with a jammed zipper on my dress."

"Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm fine," Divya said as she resumed her efforts to jerk the zipper up. "I've got this under con—OW!" She had banged the same elbow into the wall for the second time before she admitted defeat. She heard Evan snort on the other side of the door, and haughtily opened the door, expecting more ridicule.

She did not get what she expected. Neither did he, apparently. When she opened the door, he looked fully prepared to tease her some more, his irritating smirk in place as he leaned lazily against the doorjamb. But when he saw her, he straightened quickly and sucked in a shallow breath. His eyebrows shot up as he looked at the dress more carefully.

The dress was very short, and very tight, and showed all the cleavage that her new push-up had enhanced. Divya had chosen it for its sex appeal, but she definitely hadn't expected Evan to ever see it. Even though he wasn't the intended recipient of the dress, she was definitely enjoying the results. "Evan," she said, trying to disguise the happiness in her voice as impatience.

"Awesome dress."

"You said you would help me, right?"

"You should wear it to HankMed appointments. We'd definitely get some long-term clients."

"Evan!" Divya snapped her fingers in front of his face, and it seemed to break whatever trance he'd been under.

"R-right, help is on the way. Um, so, what's the problem again?"

"The zipper is jammed. Just zip it up." Divya turned around, finally allowing her small smile to escape once she was sure that Evan couldn't see it.

Once his fingers were on the zipper, Divya cursed herself. Sure, it had been a fun confidence-boost to have Evan stutter and stare at her, but she had seriously misjudged her own reaction to his touch.

Instead of wrenching it like she had been attempting to do, Evan was taking his time to pull the zipper up. His knuckles softly grazed the skin above the fabric that he was covering up with every inch the zipper rose, and the heat from his body was bleeding into hers from his closeness. Divya didn't know if he was torturing her intentionally, but the result was the profound.

When he finished, Divya wobbled forward, finally released from his searing grip. She was simultaneously relieved and disappointed that he no longer had any reason to touch her. She couldn't look him in the face, so she mumbled her thanks and unsteadily began to apply her makeup. Evan didn't move. "I like your dress," he said quietly, and Divya stopped putting on mascara because she was fairly certain that she was going to poke herself in the eye with the amount her hand was shaking. _The husky voice is back_, her mind sang. _It's back, it's back, it's back…_ In the mirror, Divya could see that Evan was still gazing at her, and her toes curled up involuntarily. "So," he murmured, approaching her again and giving the zipper a playful tweak, "Why are you getting all dressed up?"

"Um, Raj and I are going out tonight."

Silence. Evan let go of her zipper a second time and leaned against the door jam, crossing his arms. "Oh," he said. The husky voice was gone. Now his voice seemed too loud, and it reverberated against the tile. "I didn't realize."

"He's coming here to pick me up in around five minutes. It's just—we're trying something new tonight."

Evan's head shot up. "Something new? With your fiancée?" he said. His voice was the opposite of husky now; it seemed to have gone up an octave or two. "Like a new restaurant? Because Chewy's is great… You might be overdressed for it, but I'm sure he hasn't been there before—"

Divya interrupted, "No, not a new restaurant. More like a new…test of our romantic compatibility."

"…Romantic compatibility?"

"Yes."

Evan looked nauseated. "So you're actually going to sleep with him or something? Ugh."

Divya whipped around. "What?" she shrilled. Evan threw up his hands to defend himself. "Like it's any of your business what I'm going to do with Raj!"

"Fine! I'm sorry I asked!"

Divya grimaced and faced the mirror again, roughly applying blush. "You realize that Hank is probably going to hire Ginger," Divya said, trying desperately to change the subject. Seeing Evan's twitch of a nod in the mirror, she continued, "Do you like her?"

Evan shrugged. "Sure. She seems nice. It'll be weird to work with a woman who doesn't seem to hate my guts half the time, but I'll cope."

"So are you going to ask her out then?"

Evan blinked at her in surprise. Divya herself wasn't totally sure where the question had come from. She didn't usually speak without thinking; that was Evan's territory. "Um, no," he fidgeted. "I'm not interested in Ginger."

Divya knew that he was staring at her again, but she still couldn't bring herself to directly meet his gaze in the mirror. She finally croaked, "That's probably for the best. It's generally never a good idea to dip your pen into the company ink. It rarely ends well for anyone." Her eyes flitted upwards to judge his response. Evan was looking very embarrassed and was now looking anywhere but at her.

After what seemed like ages, Divya finally finished putting on her makeup. She turned to leave the bathroom, awkwardly brushing by Evan, who was still leaning against the door. She dropped her duffel bag with today's clothes on the floor of the kitchen where she would get it tomorrow. As she rifled through her purse for her cell phone, she heard Evan ask, "You really feel that way about office romance?"

Divya briefly paused in her search for her phone to consider. Evan sounded horribly depressed—but her heart rebelled against the idea that she should support his desired relationship with Ginger. She realized that she wasn't generous enough to want him to be happy with someone else. "I think that it's highly unprofessional, and that you should search for a romantic partner outside of HankMed."

Raj's knock sounded on the Lawson's front door. Two pairs of eyes flickered toward the interruption. Evan seemed rooted to the spot as Divya rushed to leave. "Divya," Evan called abruptly. "What are you going to do if you and Raj aren't—uh—romantically compatible?"

Divya's unexpectedly. "Nothing," she breathed. "It won't change anything."

She could feel his disappointment simmering at her back as she slammed the door behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Wasn't In Vino Veritas such a great episode? I wanted to throw myself at Evan pretty much every time he spoke. Or breathed, really. At the very least, Divya should have thrown herself at him, but we can't always get what we want. :) Anyway, here is the next chapter of Bull's Eye. Divya is a bit of an idiot-but she's new at this. Let's cut her some slack. On a personal (and hopefully a review-inducing) note, it's my birthday today! So give me the loveliest present of all: loads of reviews.

Chapter Five

With every glass of wine that Divya drank, her engagement seemed a little less scary. So, really, it was a good thing that she had just chugged the last of her fifth glass. Raj had drunk some too—was he on his fourth or fifth glass? Divya had lost track… such issues seem trivial compared to making sure that she consumed as much alcohol as she possibly could.

When Raj had ordered a bottle of wine to accompany their dinner, Divya really hadn't been planning on getting drunk. But when she realized that she was sitting down to a romantic candlelit dinner with the man she was going to marry while the man she actually wanted was probably watching cartoons and eating Fruity Puffs, she felt the sudden desire to become intoxicated. Quickly. Thankfully, Raj seemed very willing to join her in her journey toward oblivion.

In any case, with two wine bottles empty and another quickly becoming so, Divya no longer feared her marriage. She no longer feared moving to London. She no longer feared _anything_ because drunk Divya was fearless.

Not that she was drunk, really. Just tipsy.

With the haze of inebriation clearing her mind, Divya saw now that Raj was her best friend in the entire world. In fact, she really should tell him so. "Raj, you're my best friend," she slurred delightedly. "You're my great… You're just so…so great." _That was barely coherent_, Divya's conscience chastised. _Maybe you should put your glass down. _Instead, Divya took a large gulp, loving the tang and bitterness of the merlot.

Raj smiled happily. "Do you remember when Joey Banerjee brought that bottle of blueberry vodka to his birthday party in the eleventh grade?" Raj said, giggling in between hiccups. "And neither of us had drunk any form of liquor…and you ended up kissing Barry Rao in the pantry while I was vomiting into their vegetable garden!" The pair of them cracked up, drawing some indignant glares from the other diners.

A delicate cough drew their attention. A waiter handed Raj back the check and his credit card, and his disgruntled sneer signaled that it was time for the pair of them to leave the establishment. Still laughing, they wobbled out of the restaurant, and Raj waved over a taxi and opened the door for Divya.

Suddenly, Divya didn't feel like laughing. "Raj…Do you want to go back to your hotel room?" Fearless, she decided. She was fearless.

Once her words sunk in, Raj stopped chortling and looked at her. "Is this… Do you mean…" When she nodded hesitantly, he said, "Oh. Right. Well, sure, I suppose." He let her climb in the taxi first, and then clambered in after. He gave the driver the name of the hotel, and then he and Divya sat in discomfited silence.

The change in atmosphere was catastrophic. The ease and enjoyment of the evening before them had evaporated into a disjointed awkwardness. As Raj pulled his key card out of the electronic lock and gestured for Divya to go into the room before him, her fearlessness had turned into a sense of terrible discomfort. She doubted that Raj was any less uncertain; the twisting of his hands gave it away. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked tentatively.

Divya wanted to drink until she was senseless, but politely refused. She was a bit of a lightweight when it came to alcohol, and if she drank any more she would either end up singing show tunes, crying into a shot glass, or vomiting all over Raj's expensive shoes. Divya was already feeling nauseated, though she wasn't sure whether it was from the excessive drinking or the fact that she was in Raj's hotel room with no escape plan. She and Raj sat down on the hotel's plush sofa, uncomfortably avoiding each other's eyes.

"This is ridiculous." Divya's head jerked up, surprised that he was being so frank. "We're getting married in less than two months, and we're terrified of touching each other."

Divya smiled understandingly. "We've never done this before, Raj. It's bound to be a little peculiar at first, but you're my fiancée. And more importantly, you're my best friend. There's no one I'd feel safer doing this with." Though her words rang true, Divya couldn't help but feel that safety wasn't exactly what she wanted. She wouldn't mind a little danger for the first time in her life.

Raj took her hand and held it tenderly in his. "Let's not rush with anything," he murmured. "We're both nervous and, quite honestly, fairly intoxicated," he said, grinning for the first time since they had walked in. "We can take it slowly."

"Okay," Divya whispered. She had the absurd impulse to giggle, because the situation was just so monumentally backwards and perplexing, but managed to restrain herself.

Raj lowered his head and kissed her. _Okay_, Divya thought. _This is fine. He's not bad at this._ And in truth, he wasn't bad at it. Divya could tell that he wasn't extraordinarily experienced, but that was okay because she wasn't either. Her queasiness hadn't abated in the slightest, but her inebriation left her with a pleasant buzz in her head. She inelegantly moved her hands to his face, pulling him tighter against her, trying to force intimacy and enthusiasm.

But after a few minutes of halfhearted making out, it happened. He clumsily slid one hand to her waist while the other touched her back, and all of a sudden Divya couldn't breathe.

She wished it was because she was swept away with passion like those women in romance novels that her college roommate had devoured. She even wished that her breathlessness was the result of some sort of acute medical condition that would force her to stop kissing Raj and call Hank. But she couldn't delude herself as to the cause.

Raj had placed his hands in the exact place that Evan had placed his own when she'd kissed him. All of a sudden, she was shocked with the memory of the heat of his body pressed against hers, the involuntary curve of her back as his fingers caressed her hip and back, the slide of his lips against hers. His hands had gently skimmed against her body too, but she could feel the tension boiling under his skin, matching her own. It couldn't have been a more stark contrast to the hands feeling her now.

She wanted Evan—Evan, who poisoned her thoughts against this marriage in the first place, who relentlessly clouded her judgment about _everything_, and who maybe wasn't lying after all when he said that he didn't want to be with Ginger.

This was wrong. She didn't want this, Raj didn't want this—she couldn't do this to either of them. She loved Raj as the friend she'd had since she was seven, but not like this. Never like this. If this striking loneliness were the result of making out, what would happen if they ever went further? And if they got married, they would have to go further. She would be with Raj, but so alone…

Her nausea surged. She abruptly jolted away from Raj, who frowned concernedly. "Divya, are you alright?" She didn't answer, clamping her mouth shut. She leapt up and sprinted to the bathroom, where she bent over the toilet and vomited.

Her body shook with heaves and then, when she had completely emptied the contents of the stomach, with muffled sobs. She spat and shakily stood up, gripping the sink. How had she not realized how drunk she was—the room was spinning horribly and she felt lightheaded. After she'd rinsed her mouth out and washed her face in the sink, she turned to see Raj standing grimly in the doorway. She was struck by the familiarity of the situation. Only a few hours earlier had she and Evan been standing in the same positions, but now all she felt was guilt and humiliation. "Raj," she moaned hoarsely. "I don't think I can do this."

"I understand," he said quietly.

"I think I should leave."

He shrugged noncommittally. "I'm sorry that this isn't what you want."

"I'm sorry that this isn't what you want either."

He paused. "We'll figure this out eventually."

"Maybe." She picked up her purse off the coffee table and tottered past Raj. She put a hand on his arm, feeling tears well up in her eyes. Blinking them away, she murmured, "I really am sorry, Raj."

He smiled softly. "We can't control our desires, Divya. Trying is foolishness." She smiled fondly at him, and then staggered out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Bull's Eye

Chapter 6

Divya was disgusted with her unpreparedness. There weren't any cabs out this late, and even if she did by some miracle manage to wave one over, she didn't have any cash with which to pay the driver because she'd left her purse in the hotel suite with Raj. She certainly couldn't walk home; it would take hours even if she were sober, which she most decidedly was not. She could have gone back into the hotel and retrieved her purse, but she didn't think she could suffer the embarrassment of seeing Raj again. So, really, what choice did she have but to call Evan at one o'clock in the morning?

Fervently thankful that she had at least remembered to grab her phone off of the coffee table before unceremoniously running out on fiancée, she dialed Evan's cell phone and waited for a few moments until he picked up. He must have been asleep, because took a few moments of his groaning and rustling around in bed before he groggily mumbled, "This is HankMed, and how can we make you feel better today?"

"It's Divya."

"Divs?" Evan sounded more alert now. "Are you all right? You sound…funky."

"I'm fine. I'm sorry to be calling this late. It's just—I kind of need a ride. My car's at your house and there aren't any caxis—I mean tabs…"

She could sense his incredulity even though he didn't say anything for a few seconds. "Divya…are you drunk? Please be drunk. I could use a laugh."

"No, I'm not drunk," she lied. "I just need a ride please. Look, if you're not available or something, I'll figure something else out—"

"No, I can do it. Where are you?"

Divya gave him directions and promptly hung up. She was not looking forward to Evan seeing her completely intoxicated, knowing that she would give him enough material to tease her with for the rest of their lives.

After less than ten minutes of sitting on a cold stone bench, she saw headlights approaching in the distance. She belatedly realized that she had asked the one person in the Hamptons without a car to drive her home, so she wasn't hugely shocked to see that Evan had taken Hank's car, most likely without his consent.

He pulled alongside the curb, parked, and grinned at her, "What's up, Divs?" When she saw his smile, she was suddenly terrified that she was going to throw up again. Mercifully, she managed to quell her nausea. She clumsily pushed herself off the bench, knees shaking violently. As she tried to walk to the car, she teetered dangerously. Evan jumped out of the car with an agility she never knew he had and looped an arm tightly around her waist, narrowly keeping her from keeling over onto the sidewalk.

"Ugh," she moaned. "Thanks."

He steered her to the passenger side of the convertible, opened the door, and helped her climb in. After she fumbled with her seatbelt for an embarrassingly long time, Evan rolled his eyes and clicked her seatbelt in for her. She closed her eyes to stop her head from spinning while Evan started the engine. Divya had never felt so grateful toward Evan; he was being so kind and nonjudgmental about her drunkenness.

"So, how was your evening?" Evan asked, obviously only barely managing not to laugh. Divya's eyes flew open. All those nice feelings about him evaporated.

"It was fine."

"Yeah, seems like a outstanding date to me," Evan smirked. "You know, I never thought I'd actually ever get to see you drunk. It's the stuff that dreams are made of. Kind of like seeing Jessica Alba topless, except better. It was definitely worth it to wake up and get you."

Divya scowled at his obvious merriment. "I'm glad that I'm entertaining you," she deadpanned.

"I mean, you're not just drunk. You're completely smashed. I can't wait to tell Hank."

"Shut up."

"You're an amazingly eloquent drunk, you know."

"…Double shut up."

Evan laughed delightedly, and Divya finally cracked a begrudging smile. "So, tell me honestly," he said, sounding more serious. "What led to you sitting on the side of the road, completely wasted and waiting for me to rescue you at one-fifteen in the morning?"

"I think it was the seven—seven? Maybe eight glasses of wine at dinner. Possibly nine. I'm a bit of a lightweight, I suppose."

"Sure, that's why you were drunk. But why were you drunk outside of the hotel, rather than drunk in Raj's penthouse suite?"

Divya looked away in mortification. "Turns out that we're not physically compatible after all. We tried to be… I mean, for a while, we—"

She was interrupted by Evan's exaggerated gagging noises. "No, offense, Divs," he shuddered, "But I really, _really_ don't want to know how you—uh—found out that you weren't compatible."

"That's fine, because I really don't want to tell you about it," she sniffed haughtily.

"Great."

"Lovely."

"Super."

Evan, apparently incapable of letting Divya pretend this evening had never happened, took her huffy silence as permission to ask more obnoxious questions. "So what are you going to do?"

"About what, exactly?"

"Duh—about how Raj is totally a cold fish."

"How do you know that Raj is a cold fish? Maybe we just don't have the right chemistry. Or maybe I'm the cold fish."

"Please, Divsie. You're no cold fish. I know from personal experience."

Divya glanced at Evan, who apparently felt that he had said too much. He was blushing and staring resolutely at the road. Divya responded forlornly, "You asked me this earlier, Evan. There's nothing I can do."

"Can do, or will do?"

Divya fidgeted uncomfortably. "It doesn't matter. Nothing has changed."

Evan looked like he wanted to argue more, but the conversation thankfully ended as they pulled into the Lawson's driveway.

"Evan, why did you bring me here?"

Evan shrugged and replied, "I don't really know where you live, Divs. You're a woman of mystery. Besides, you need some supervision. Something tells me that you're not a very experienced drunk."

Divya tried to navigate her way toward the house, but didn't manage to get more than a few feet out of the car before stumbling. Her face burned when Evan practically had to drag her into the house.

"This is mortifying," she whimpered.

"This is hilarious," he gloated.

Evan helped her up the stairs to his room, where she plopped onto his bed. "If you can manage, there's a spare toothbrush under the sink in the adjoining bathroom, as well as a shower. I'll get you some pajamas."

"Thanks."

"If you think you're too drunk to keep from falling in the shower, I'd be glad to accompany you. Just to make sure you're safe. I'm that kind of guy."

"Get out."

She got up and wobbled to the bathroom, barely managing to not to trip. She brushed her teeth meticulously while Evan dug up a t-shirt and sweatpants. She took a short but thorough shower, trying to erase the memory of vomit and alcohol from her body. When she got out of the shower, she slid on the well-worn sweatpants. They were several sizes too big for her, but she didn't mind. She picked up the t-shirt and grinned; the front was emblazoned with a large "HankMed" and smelled like Evan's soap.

Divya stepped out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry and feeling remarkably more sober. Evan was sitting on the bed, now dressed in a matching outfit. He grinned and said, "I like your shirt."

"I like it too. I might just steal it, you know. It's very comfortable, and it actually fits me."

"Yes, it sure does." Evan's gaze suddenly made Divya realize that she wasn't wearing a bra underneath the shirt. He abruptly stood up and grabbed a pillow from his bed, then walked toward the door.

Divya looked at him with confusion. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"I'm sleeping on the couch."

"What? No. Evan, I'm the one that dragged you out of bed at one in the morning. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Look, Divsie, as the gentleman in our relationship, I reserve the right to suffer. I'm sleeping on the couch."

"You? A gentleman? Please."

His eyes flickered toward the HankMed logo on her chest again, and he muttered, "Yeah, maybe not. But this bed is closer to the bathroom, which will be important tomorrow morning, when you've got a hangover and are puking all over the place."

Divya opened her mouth to protest hotly, but decided to concede defeat. Evan's bed looked awfully tempting, though she tried not to think too hard about that. Instead, she walked straight up to Evan and wrapped her arms around his chest.

"Thank you," she whispered, resting her slightly dizzy head where his shoulder met his neck.

The hand that wasn't holding the pillow slowly came up to rest on her back, lightly pressing her closer. They stood together longer than what Divya considered proper, but she wasn't exactly fighting to get away. All she wanted was the weight of Evan's arm holding her to him and his distracting but wonderful scent—all soap and ocean and just Evan—to envelope her completely. Forget the wine—she was drunk on Evan's warmth and closeness.

That wasn't much of an excuse to kiss him, but she did it anyway.

As she stood on her tiptoes, gently pressing her lips against his, the logic and reason that she prided herself on were lost. She forgot that it was two in the morning, that she was engaged to another man, that she was still halfway inebriated, and that her boss was sleeping only a room away.

Fortunately, it appeared that Evan had forgotten all those things as well. He dropped the pillow, which landed with a soft _thump_ on the ground that neither of them noticed, and moved his hands to clutch at her waist. He tilted his mouth against hers in a disturbingly skilled kind of way, tantalizingly dragging her mouth open with his own.

Divya knew that this was right. It wasn't like with Raj. This kiss was elemental, with all the gasping and heat and searching hands and other kinds of wonderfulness. As she dipped her fingers underneath the hem of his shirt to scratch at his back, he unexpectedly pulled her against him roughly, sending their hips into sharply delicious contact. Their tongues slid against each other hotly, and the kiss was starting to look as though it could venture into a whole new, far more dangerous territory that Divya was simultaneously terrified and thrilled by. She knew that if Evan pulled her toward the bed, she wouldn't stop him. She'd never stop him.

But Evan stopped her. He gently pulled his lips away from hers, and dropped his hands to his sides. "Divya," he said in a tortured voice. "We can't do this."

Divya blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?" she asked, hating how breathy and hurt she sounded.

Evan swallowed. "You're drunk."

"That doesn't stop me from knowing what I want." She reached for him, but he intercepted and held her hands tightly, looking at the floor dejectedly.

"You're engaged."

"You didn't seem to mind a minute ago!" Divya yanked her hands away from him. Suddenly, her anger and humiliation overwhelmed her grief and she was yelling, "You were kissing me too. You can't pretend you weren't right there with me!"

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Divya had never heard Evan raise his voice before, but he seemed to feel just as wretched as her.

"You could have stopped me! Instead, you made a fool of me _again_…"

"_You_ pounced on _me_, Divya."

"Well, if you didn't want me to—to pounce on you, then why didn't you do something to stop me?" Her voice broke on the last word, and their frustration escaped them with the proof of her misery.

Evan agitatedly ran his hands through his curly hair as he began to ramble. "I didn't stop you because—well—you just took a shower and smell all nice and you're wearing my clothes _without a bra_," he gestured accusatorily toward her chest and resumed his rant. "…And you were looking at me with these 'I'm a lonely fawn, so won't you love me' eyes and you're, you know, _you_, so what the hell could I do but make out with you for a bit when you gave me the chance?" He looked into her eyes beseechingly, willing her to understand and forgive him.

Instead, Divya slumped onto the floor in a faint as her dizziness finally overcame her.


	7. Chapter 7

Bull's Eye

Chapter 7

She was dying. There was no other explanation for the intense throbbing in her head and the aching everywhere else. Thankfully, death didn't seem so horrible in comparison to living with this hangover. Divya opened her eyes feebly, fighting not to shut them again in agony when light from the window fell on her face. What had she drunk last night? More importantly, exactly how much had she drunk last night?

Deciding that sleeping off her hangover was the best choice, Divya ignored the clock on the bedside table that read 9:43 a.m. and buried her face into the pillow she'd been resting upon. Abruptly, she realized that this pillow wasn't hers. For one thing, it was blue instead of lavender. It didn't smell like her usual fabric softener, but like men's soap and the ocean and something indefinable but extremely irresistible.

It smelled like Evan.

She shot off the bed despite the protests of her weary body, quickly scanning the room and confirming that she had indeed spent the night in Evan's bed. When she looked down at her body, she emitted a strangled gasp as she realized that she was wearing his clothes. Memories started flitting back to her as she fully awoke.

She had drunk way too much wine at dinner in a feeble attempt to eliminate her problems.

Then she halfheartedly and awkwardly tried to seduce Raj.

They went back to his hotel room and uncomfortably kissed for a bit.

Divya eventually vomited and ran out in shame.

Then she called Evan.

And went home with Evan.

Where she made out with Evan.

…Oh God. She needed to vomit again.

As she threw up for the second time in twelve hours, Divya decided that she was never drinking again. Ever. Because, apparently, drinking led Divya to lowered inhibitions and bad decisions, things that she couldn't afford when in Evan's presence.

The fact that she had been sleeping in his bed only intensified her panic. Had she done anything besides kiss Evan? She frantically tried to remember what had happened after the kiss, but could only recall Evan regretfully pushing her off of him as she tried to will him toward the bed, after which she promptly fainted. Oh, _God. _If Evan—_Evan_, of all people —hadn't been so chivalrous, she could have woken up with much bigger problems.

But her heart involuntarily warmed. Evan after she had attacked him, Evan had obviously picked her up off the ground where she had passed out and had tucked her into bed. But she shook her head—now was not the time to focus on that. She had much more serious things to attend to than obsessing over Evan's kindness.

How could she face Raj after the fiasco that was last night? Should she tell him that she had kissed another man? She really shouldn't base her marriage on lies. Which, Divya thought bitterly, was ironic, because they were both lying when they said that this marriage is what they really wanted. But still, although Raj didn't love her, it could still hurt him to know that she had found in Evan what she could never find in him.

Oh God. Evan.

If she had thought that seeing Raj again would be difficult, she knew that seeing Evan would be ten times worse. Divya decided that it would be better to think about that later, when her head wasn't going to explode. Right now, she had to find out how to escape the Lawsons' house without drawing attention to her current situation.

After a hurried scrub of her toothbrush, Divya grabbed her clothes and shoes from last night and crept out the bedroom door, trying to be as silent as possible. She fervently hoped that no one would have to witness her first walk of shame—it seemed only fair after last night's debacle that she not be subjected to any more disgrace.

"Divya?"

Apparently, life was not fair.

Hank and Ginger were sitting at the kitchen table, reviewing patient files and eating breakfast. Hank's fork, loaded with pancakes and syrup, was frozen halfway between his plate and mouth as he took in Divya's unusual appearance. The embarrassment was never going to end; Ginger and Hank both looked pristine and professional, while Divya was unsuccessfully trying to sneak out of her boss's brother's bedroom with a stolen toothbrush, serious bed-head, and a HankMed tee-shirt that didn't belong to her fiancée, all while being about an hour late to work.

"Did you—erm—" he paused, apparently searching for a polite way to ask, "Did you just come out of Evan's bedroom, Divya?"

Ignoring the thumbs-up and excessive winking that Ginger was shooting her behind Hank's back, Divya replied in what she prayed was a nonchalant voice, "Oh, yes. Yes, I did."

"Oh," said Hank. "Okay, then. I was wondering why your car was here."

"I spent the night here." Hank put the fork down on his plate. "Not with Evan! Just in his bed. He was not with me in the bed," Divya explained weakly.

Hank nodded slowly, then gestured toward her outfit. "You're… wearing his clothes."

"Yeah… that looks bad, doesn't it?" Was her voice usually this high? It seemed more squeaky than usual. "He just gave me his clothes because I had to take mine off." Upon seeing Hank's shocked face and Ginger's amused one, Divya hurried to add, "But I only took mine off because I vomited on mine." Ginger and Hank visibly recoiled. "Not because I was sick! I was just really intoxicated. That's actually why I made Evan give me a ride last night." Ginger let what Divya considered to be a very unprofessional giggle escape her lips. "He gave me a ride _home_. Because I couldn't drive. So he gave me a ride home. Well, not really to _my_ home, but to his."

Hank looked stunned. "So… nothing—weird happened… between you two?"

"Um." Divya decided that feigning deafness would be easier than lying to Hank, especially when it concerned how she had essentially sexually assaulted his brother last night. "I'm sorry, but do you have any ibuprofen? My head is absolutely killing me."

Hank nodded slowly, mystification still written all over his face. Ginger reached into her medicine bag and pulled out a bottle, tossing it to Divya. As she swallowed three pills, Divya absentmindedly noticed that Ginger's bag was freshly emblazoned with the same HankMed logo that she was currently sporting on her chest.

Hank, who was apparently still trying to figure out exactly what had happened between his little brother and his P.A., said hesitantly, "Divya, do you want to take the day off? It looks like you need some time to recuperate."

Incredibly thankful, Divya nodded and shamefacedly grabbed the bag with the clothes that she had been wearing before her date. As she pulled her skirt on in the bathroom, she received a text. She rummaged through her bag until she pulled out her phone.

It was from Raj. "**Brunch at Pacino's at 10:30? Want to discuss last night. I'll bring your purse.**" Divya groaned. She was not looking forward to this, but knew that she owed it to Raj. She glanced in the mirror to gauge how desperate the hair and makeup situation was, uselessly tried to subdue her wild tresses, and admitted defeat before quickly walking toward the door.

Before she left, she went back to ask Hank and Ginger in the same supposedly offhand voice, "Um, so… Is Evan here?"

Smirking infuriatingly, Ginger answered, "No, he's at an early morning business meeting. Or an E.M.B.M., as he told me to call it."

"Oh, so you saw him this morning."

"Yes," Ginger smiled mischievously. "And he was acting kind of weird, wasn't he, Hank? Nervous, almost. Kind of guilty. And he was wearing the same thing you are, Divya."

Divya didn't like the inkling of comprehension that was forming in Hank's eyes. He glanced at Divya uncertainly, turned back to see Ginger's smirk, and his eyes widened significantly. Turning back, Hank looked like he wanted to continue questioning her, so Divya quickly said goodbye and fled to her car before he got the chance.

When she arrived at Pacino's, she snorted bitterly. She couldn't believe that Raj had chosen the same place to talk about their total absence of physical compatibility as Divya had chosen to interview Ginger. She was sure that there was some sort of irony to be found, but her head ached too much to muddle through it.

Raj was already at a table, so she sat across from him and twisted her hands nervously on the white tablecloth. He nudged her purse and a large mug of coffee toward her, shooting her a small smile. Divya tried to mirror it, though she was fairly certain that it looked like more of a grimace.

"Raj," she began earnestly. "I am so sorry about last night. I never get that drunk—last night notwithstanding—"

"Divya," Raj interrupted. "Please…There is no need to apologize." At Divya's incredulous stare, he shrugged and amended, "Well, maybe a bit of a need. But what I need for you to do right now is to listen to me."

Divya's abdomen began to cramp with apprehension. Raj was looking very serious, and she was terrified that she had destroyed all chances for even a superficially happy marriage.

"After you left last night, I went straight to sleep," Raj began. "I was exhausted and drunk…but more than anything, I felt anxious and hurt. I felt that we had done something wrong…" Raj smiled at Divya apologetically. "What we did last night—it seemed like a lie. You didn't really want to be with me like that, correct?" Divya nodded in shame, and Raj kindly held her hand across the table. "I understand. At least, I do now."

"What do you mean?" Divya croaked. She felt ridiculously close to tears.

Raj's thumb rubbed over the back of her hand soothingly. He sighed, and said, "Divya, I know that you've had misgivings about our strategic marriage for a long time. I know that this was forced on you, and I know that you've been trying to make the best out of a situation that you have very little control over." He glanced at her guiltily before saying, "I'm ashamed to say that I didn't pay attention to your doubts. I thought that if we ignored the problems, then they would go away. I thought that you would realize that your fears were natural, but unnecessary. Instead, I realized that your fears were natural…and completely right."

Divya looked at Raj in astonishment. "What… What do you mean, Raj?"

"We are not good together, Divya. I've always known that on some level, but last night really made me think about it." Divya squeezed his hand. He continued, "You are my best friend, and I wish you every happiness. And, selfishly enough, I do not want to have a wife that regrets marrying me. I want happiness too."

Taken aback by his bluntness, Divya said, "Raj, what are you getting at?"

"I no longer wish to marry you."

Divya's mouth gaped in disbelief. "Wh—uh…"

Raj chuckled kindly at her surprise. "Divya, you cannot pretend that you have ever wanted me to be your husband!"

"Well, no. Not especially. Oh, Raj, I am so sorry—"

Raj waved his hand airily. "You mustn't apologize! Weren't you listening to my tale of drunken epiphanies? Both of us want the same thing: not to marry each other."

Divya laughed shakily. "I just—I can't believe this. Are you sure?"

"Yes. Are you sure?"

Her giggle of exultation answered his question. Raj smiled and said, "I'm very relieved that you do not wish to marry me, because I'm afraid that it's not an option for you any longer."

"Excuse me?"

Raj grimaced apologetically. "I'm afraid that my parents visited me this morning. And they saw… Well, they saw the results of last night."

Divya winced. Raj's parents had seen the purse that she had left in his living room and the bathroom that she had destroyed. "What did you say to them?" she asked cautiously.

"Well, I said that you'd been here last night. They looked very suspicious about that. I suppose I probably appeared both guilty and hung-over… But then I realized that I had an opportunity… That _we_ had an opportunity." Raj looked at Divya pleadingly.

Divya felt dread curl in her stomach. "Raj, would you please just tell me—"

"I told them that you showed up to my room, completely drunk, and tried to seduce me."

"_What the_—"

"And then I told them that it wasn't the first time that this had happened. I said that you had a history of alcoholism and—sorry about this—nymphomania."

"Nympho—_RAJ_," Divya exploded. "I can't believe this! Oh, your parents must think I'm… Oh, God! They'll never want me to see you again—" Her eyes widened as she began to understand exactly why Raj looked so cheerful. "Oh. You made sure they wouldn't want me to marry you."

Raj nodded excitedly. "Exactly. They don't want the Bhandiopdhai family name to be sullied by being related to a woman who is addicted to alcohol _and _sex."

Divya worriedly said, "But my parents! I don't want them to think that I'm… that way."

"Don't worry," Raj said soothingly. "I convinced my parents that it would be less shameful for us not to let anyone know the reasons behind our broken engagement. My parents were fairly easy to persuade; I guess they really didn't want people to believe that we'd been consorting with your type. All your parents know is that my parents have called off the engagement for 'irreconcilable differences'."

Divya grinned triumphantly. Her cell phone shrilled suddenly, and her glance at the caller ID revealed that her parents were calling her. She stood up, enthusing, "Oh, Raj, thank you so, so much… I'm sure that I have to go do some damage control for my parents right now, but before I'm swept away in that, I just want you to know that I meant what I said last night. You really are an amazing friend, and I'm just so grateful." She hugged him tightly, trying to convey as much affection and appreciation into the farewell as she possibly could, before answering her phone with an airy, "Hello, Mum. I suppose you must have heard…"


	8. Chapter 8

Bull's Eye

Chapter 8

"This is unbelievable," Devesh Katdare raged. "It's so incredibly improper! The wedding is in just over a month—how can the Bhandiopdhai family just cancel the engagement?"

"Calm down," said Rubina sternly. "They made it perfectly clear that there is nothing we can do to change their minds. But still, there must be some explanation for their behavior. Divya, do you have any idea what could have caused Raj and his parents to change their minds?"

Divya started. She hadn't really been listening to her father's blustering and her mother's anxiety since she had arrived at their beachside mansion; she had been too busy fantasizing about her future. There were so many possibilities now in every part of her life. Her career could continue to blossom at HankMed instead of working in development and acquisitions for a company that she didn't care about. Maybe she would finally go to medical school, even though she was happy being Hank's Physician Assistant. She could stay in the Hamptons with her friends and family instead of moving to London, where she knew no one.

Maybe she could even be in a relationship with a man she wanted to be with… She tried not to picture Evan in various couple-y situations with her: his arm draping comfortably around her shoulders and occasionally tightening in fright as they watched "Garbage Collector IV" for the third time, strolling hand-in-hand down the beach until Evan decided it would be more fun to push her into the waves instead, not being embarrassed when Hank saw her coming out of Evan's bedroom in the morning, even though she and Evan had spent half the night doing the most wonderfully bad things…

Needless to say, she was not succeeding in blocking out these images.

"Divya, did you hear me?"

Snapping back to reality, Divya said, "Oh, yes, Mum. I heard you. I was just thinking." Which wasn't a lie, really. She _had_ been thinking.

"Have you come up with anything? Anything you said, perhaps, to anger or embarrass the Bhandiopdhai family?"

Divya didn't have to think that far back to know exactly how she had alienated Raj's parents; she just had to puke all over his bathroom and then have Raj explain her various imagined addictions. She struggled to keep her face solemn and said, "Nothing really comes to mind. Perhaps it's for financial reasons."

Devesh waved his hand in disdain. "Financial reasons? Bah. We are two of the wealthiest Indian families in existence."

Divya bit her lip. "Perhaps for political reasons, then. How is Katdare International doing?"

Rubina and Devesh glanced at each other in worry. "Divya… Maybe this is a good time to tell you," said Devesh slowly. "Recently, the company has run into some… problems."

"Legal problems," amended Rubina. "But it's very early in the proceedings, so not much information has gotten out. However, I suppose that if the Bhandiopdhai family heard about it, it could have been the reason for cancelling the marriage. Oh, Divya, if that is the case, I am so sorry."

Divya's joy had evaporated. "I'm more concerned about you two than about Raj and my wedding. What do you mean by 'legal problems?'"

Devesh grunted. "As you know, Katdare International has three major bases: one in New York City, one in London, and one in Bangalore. Naturally, employees are required to travel between the three cities frequently. Recently, several employees from the London branch have developed malaria during their multiple trips to India and are suing the company."

"What?" said Divya, shocked. "It's hardly your fault that they developed malaria. If they had been employing any of the multiple methods of prevention of malaria, they would have been completely safe."

Divya's father rubbed his temples, apparently too incensed to continue. Her mother said firmly, "That's what makes it such a ridiculous lawsuit. We are not at fault for their recklessness. In the end, I am sure that Katdare International will be found innocent of all charges. It's just frustrating. We are renowned for taking very good care of our employees and our ethical business practices, but if this becomes widely known it could damage our reputation. We do not want people to think that we are so concerned with money that we ignore the health of our workers." She took Divya's hand and said earnestly, "If this is the cause for the wedding to be canceled, we are both terribly sorry."

Feeling squeamish with guilt, Divya answered, "If this absurdity of a lawsuit is all it took for the Bhandiopdhai family to feel that they must dishonor us in this way, then they are not worth the time or worry of a Katdare." Rubina smiled waveringly and patted her hand.

"Spoken like a true Katdare woman, Divya," Devesh beamed proudly. "You are blessed with wisdom, my dear. No matter what their reasons are, I am sorry if Raj or his parents have caused you any disgrace."

Divya felt that she should defend Raj. "Raj is still my good friend, but I do believe that is all he will ever be," she said softly.

"Have you spoken to him?" Rubina asked eagerly. "Does he offer a reason for this madness and embarrassment?"

Divya's mind whirred quickly. Since Raj had used her to get what he wanted from his parents, surely he wouldn't mind if she did the same to him. "I spoke to him this morning. He did not know why his parents broke off the engagement, but he said that he was very relieved."

"Relieved?" barked Devesh. "What an outrage."

Divya quickly interceded, "He said that he was relieved because he thought it would be better for both of us to make our own decisions. Dad, you just said that I was blessed with wisdom. Wouldn't I be capable of deciding my own destiny?"

Rubina attempted to cut her off. "Divya—"

Divya interrupted, "And isn't Katdare International all about looking to the future? I respect and admire our culture, but arranged marriages are an antiquated tradition. This family is the face of the company…Do you really think that it's sensible to claim to be the new, modern face of Indian business, while marrying me off in an archaic ritual?"

Her parents looked stunned at her outburst. Emboldened, Divya continued. "Most importantly… As parents, don't you want me to be happy? I could never be happy with Raj, or any man that I didn't choose for myself. I could never be happy in development and acquisitions—whatever that means—because my passion is _medicine_. I love my home, the Hamptons, my friends and family, my job—and you would take all of that away from me for what? Money? Business connections? To feel like you've upheld tradition?"

Oh, God. Why was she doing this? She was ruining the relationship that she had worked so hard to maintain. All through her engagement, she had swallowed these outbursts, but they erupted as soon as the thing she feared most was no longer a problem.

"Divya," Devesh hissed. "Do not say such things. We are your parents, and will not be spoken to with such impertinence."

"But Devesh, she's right."

Rubina couldn't maintain eye contact with her husband or daughter, so she looked at a rather ugly ballerina figurine instead as she carried on. "I suppose that the trouble only arose when the things you wanted began to differ from what your father and I wished for you. You're independent and fierce. I saw these things in you, and was afraid of them." Her voice cracked with emotion.

Devesh stared at his wife. "Rubina…" he murmured.

"So I felt that we had no choice," Rubina continued solemnly. "I thought we were going to lose you. You are young, Divya, and know little of the world. But I suppose that's our fault; we've sheltered you since you were a child. We've made the decisions for you that any American woman would make for herself, trying to pull you back to our culture… And to us. But now I can see that I was foolish to do this."

Divya could barely believe her ears. Rubina smiled at her lovingly, though forlornly. "Your father meant it when he said that you are wise, my child. And you are right… You would be very capable of deciding your destiny, if we were to fully let you. Your father and I want you to be happy… We just thought that we could choose the path to your happiness for you." She paused to collect herself before saying, "But it is time for you to choose your own way. Make your own decisions… Your own mistakes…. Your own joy."

Stunned, Divya stood in silence for a few moments before launching herself into her mother's arms. "Oh, Mum," she whispered tearfully into her dress. "I love you."

"And I love you, my dear."

When they separated, Devesh seemed to be somewhere between tears and laughter. "Oh, the two of you," he hiccupped. "Must you always be so dramatic?" He chuckled hysterically, and Divya gave him a hug as well.

"Mum," Divya said, suddenly suspicious. "What brought about the change of heart? Don't tell me it was Panditjii. Psychics are not reliable sources of good judgment."

"Panditjii is not a psychic—he is a spiritual advisor," Rubina responded haughtily. "The two are very different. And so what if he did lead me to this revelation? Perhaps you should schedule an appointment with Panditjii. I want grandchildren, dearest, and without Raj, you may desire some guidance to find a husband."

Divya decided to ignore this. "So I can stay in the Hamptons?" asked Divya.

"If that is what you want," answered Rubina.

"And I can work at HankMed?"

"Yes."

"And I can date whom I want?"

Rubina tucked a lock of Divya's hair behind her ear. "I suppose," she conceded. "Though he should be well-behaved. None of these wild men that you see running about, with their tattoos and cults."

"And he should have some social status and financial security," added her father.

Her mother nodded emphatically and said, "And we would prefer you to marry an Indian boy. Though it is, of course, your decision, darling."

Divya pursed her lips. This was not totally unexpected. She decided that she should take what she could get from her parents and kissed them both on the cheek. "I'll let you two get to work," she said, no longer bothering to disguise her jubilation.

"Yes, we are supposed to be on a conference call right now with the legal team," said Rubina. "Goodbye, my darling. We'll give you a call in a few days, once all this fuss about malaria has died down. Don't forget to schedule that appointment with Panditjii."

Divya left them in their ridiculously posh mansion and clambered into her car. As she turned the car on, her mind wandered from malaria to rabies…

Maybe Mr. McAvery didn't have rabies after all.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Again, I'm not a doctor. Roll with it. :)

Bull's Eye

Chapter 9

"Mr. McAvery?" Divya called loudly as she stepped into his house, not bothering to wait at the door. "Are you here? Mr. McAve—Ah! You _are_ here." As she realized that they weren't the only two in his bedroom, she said, "And everyone else is here too."

Hank, Ginger, and, to her delighted surprise, Evan surrounded Mr. McAvery's bed. Hank and Ginger were changing Mr. McAvery's IV fluids, and Evan was playing with one of the patient's many cameras, ignoring Mr. McAvery's furious stare. "Divya, I thought I gave you the day off," said Hank. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I feel much better. I just came here to say hello to Mr. McAvery. So, hello, Mr. McAvery!" she trilled cheerfully. Everyone was staring at her as though she had gone slightly crazy. She wondered if this was what it felt like to be Evan.

Ginger said hesitantly, "Maybe you should go home, Divya. Get some sleep."

"I appreciate that, Ginger, but I really am fine. Just marvelous, really."

Evan, who had been looking at her with trepidation in his eyes, said, "Divs, why are you all…smiley?" Divya turned to look at him. Oh, she loved him. She did, especially when he was looking all vulnerable and scared like he did right now. Though she also especially loved him when he was being unbearably cocky or annoying or silly or sexy… Oh, she wanted so badly to do so many devious things to him…

"Divs?" he repeated, alarmed at her lack of response and her goofy half-smile.

"Oh, right. Why I'm smiley. Multiple reasons, I suppose. The first of which I'm going to check right now." Divya reached into her purse, pulling out an opthamoloscope. "Excuse me, Mr. McAvery, I'm just going to check something."

Mr. McAvery looked aghast. "Look, lady, I don't know who think you are, but if you think you can just waltz in here and start poking around my body with that thing, you can think again. And stop smiling like that—it's creepy."

With some effort, Divya suppressed her grin. "I apologize, Mr. McAvery. I just want to examine you. I have a hunch, and if I'm correct, you'll be smiling too."

She took his muttering as an assent and approached him. She sat beside him on the bed, ignoring the bemused glances that her fellow employees were shooting each other, and peered into her patient's eyes with the opthamoloscope. "That's what I thought," she said softly. Her grin erupted again as her hunch was confirmed.

"I'm sorry, but what exactly have you seen?" Ginger sounded vaguely annoyed. "I didn't see any abnormalities with the retinas or corneas during my examination. Honestly, I was more concerned with the possibility of rabies."

"Well, you didn't see any abnormalities with the retinas nor corneas because the problem is with the iris." Divya stood up again, radiating triumph.

Hank immediately realized what Divya was implying. He seized the tool from her hand and looked at Mr. McAvery's eyes. When he straightened, he looked at Divya in wonder and murmured, "Bull's eye."

"Exactly," Divya beamed at him. Evan and Ginger looked completely bewildered. Divya explained to Ginger, "He has pigment stippling."

Ginger looked absolutely horrified as the truth dawned on her. "Oh my God. Oh my _God._ Of course."

Evan didn't appreciate being the only one left in the dark, though Divya had thought that with the frequency that it occurred, he would be more used to it. "What are you talking about, Divya? I'm sure that Paul and I would both just love to know." Mr. McAvery glared when Evan had the impudence to use his first name, but kept his grumbling low.

"He is displaying the Bull's Eye Effect," Divya said patiently.

"What?"

"Pigment stippling. Abnormal pigmentation."

"…What?"

"Oh, Evan," Divya sighed in fond exasperation. "Come here, and I'll show you." Hank gave Evan the tool, which Evan clumsily used to look into Mr. McAvery's left eye, which was now narrowed with annoyance. "If you look closely at the iris, you can see that there are several distinctive shades of pigment in concentric circles centered around his pupil. The different colors make the iris look like a bull's eye—the kind that you throw darts at, not the kind in a cow."

Evan let out a surprised laugh. "That is so totally awesome, Paul. You look like one of those cartoon villains that hypnotize people with the swirly eyes and everything. Hey, you can be my nemesis! I'm a supertaster, you know, which is practically a superpower, plus I'm pretty good with the ladies, so all I need is a cape and I'm set to go—"

Hank interrupted Evan's rambling impatiently. "Of course, Mr. McAvery, this means that you don't have rabies. You're not going to die any time soon."

To Divya's wonder, Mr. McAvery's eyes brimmed with tears. "Do you mean that?"

Hank nodded, "I mean it. Divya, since you realized what was wrong, do you want to explain exactly what has been causing Mr. McAvery's symptoms?"

"Thank you, Hank," Divya grinned. "The Bull's Eye Effect is the distinctive symptom of an overdose of anti-malarial drugs, mostly commonly Plaquenil. When you went to Ghana, you were taking a high daily dose, weren't you?"

"Yes, but I went off that stuff when I got back from Ghana. That was over two weeks ago. That's why I didn't mention it before."

"The drug can actually stay in your system for a long time and build up," Divya explained serenely. "Though serious effects are rare, they happen more often to people that have used the drug for extensive periods of time and in high doses, and I suspect that you have done both."

Hank chimed in, "The side effects of Plaquenil can be vision problems, muscle weakness, abdominal cramps, light sensitivity, and…" He smirked at Divya, who valiantly tried not to snigger. "…Irritability."

"All you need are eight grams of ammonium chloride daily and your system will be completely clear within a few weeks," Divya said. "We'll monitor your recovery closely and change your prescription for any future travel, but you will make a full recovery."

"I'll admit, that's pretty amazing," groused Mr. McAvery. "And I would have known all of this earlier if _someone_ had done a more thorough examination yesterday. Instead, I spent all my time composing my Bucket List." He glared at Ginger venomously.

Ginger, who had remained completely silent for several minutes, gingerly spoke up. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to cause you pain."

Hank interceded on Ginger's behalf. "Anyone could have missed the pigmentation. It takes a very observant person to see it, and a very knowledgeable medical expert to realize what it means." Divya glowed at his praise. Evan and Hank smiled at her obvious pleasure. Hank continued in a more subdued voice, "We're really going to hate to lose her." Evan's smile faded noticeably.

Ginger hastily stood up and left the room. Hank and Divya looked at each other uncertainly when they heard the front door slam. Hank said uneasily, "Well, I guess I'll get Mr. McAvery started on the ammonium chloride."

Evan chimed in, "And I'll get Mr. McAvery started on our bill."

Divya nodded and offered, "And I'll check on Ginger."

After stepping outside, Divya saw a flash of mahogany hair on the beach behind Mr. McAvery's house. She slipped off her sandals and followed, enjoying the crunch of sand beneath her feet. She finally saw Ginger sitting glumly a few feet in front of where the waves flowed on the sand. Divya primly sat down beside her and wrapped her arms around her knees for warmth. "Are you alright, Ginger?" she asked, genuine concern filling her voice.

Ginger dug her feet into the sand. "No," she murmured shakily. "I can't believe that I did that. I can't believe that I completely missed the diagnosis." She looked at Divya gravely. "Mr. McAvery is right to be furious with me."

Divya shook her head. "Anyone could have made that mistake."

"_You_ didn't." Divya couldn't find a comforting reply. "I'm a good Physician Assistant, Divya. I really am. But I'm used to having a hospital around me, and lots of support from the other doctors… A safety net, I guess. In a hospital, any blame is spread over the entire staff. But working for HankMed means losing that security. Any mistake I make—no matter how insignificant—means that I bear the brunt of the consequences."

Divya wanted to protest, but couldn't find a flaw in Ginger's logic.

Ginger grimaced. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, Divya. I feel really bad about this, but… I don't think that I can keep working for HankMed. I miss the hospital… Oddly enough, it feels like there's less pressure in the city than out here in the Hamptons." She laughed bitterly.

"That's your decision, Ginger," said Divya, trying to hide her surprise. "If you choose to go back to New York City, I know that Hank, Evan, and I will all wish you the best of luck."

"Thanks," Ginger smiled appreciatively. "I'm sorry, Divya, I know that this is really short notice… I know you're leaving for London in only a few weeks, and I don't want to leave Hank without a Physician Assistant, but—"

Divya cut her apology off. "Ginger," she said warmly, "Don't worry about leaving HankMed shorthanded. I know exactly where Hank can find a P.A."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Wow. This was supposed to be a one-shot. :)

Thanks to everyone who has read or commented, especially the wonderful SketchyJawa.

Bull's Eye

Chapter 10

After Ginger left her alone on the beach, Divya closed her eyes and enjoyed the sunshine warming her skin. For a few minutes, she sat by herself, simply basking in the sound of the waves and her new freedom.

However, it wasn't long before her solitude was interrupted. Without looking, Divya knew that the person slowly approaching her was Evan. She opened her eyes as he clumsily collapsed on the sand next to her. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," he repeated. _Oh, husky voice,_ Divya thought. _How I've missed you…_ "Where's Ginger?" he asked.

"She quit. She's going back to work in a hospital."

"Oh," Evan said, sounding mildly surprised. "That's a bummer."

Divya shyly glanced at him and asked, "You never actually did like Ginger as anything more than a friend, did you?"

Evan rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Divya, she was here for, like, a day! Besides, I thought I made it very clear last night exactly who I—that I don't like Ginger that way. She was nice and everything, but the fact that she quit is just a hassle… We have to find _another_ replacement now."

"Mm. Perhaps," Divya grinned.

Puzzled, Evan scrutinized her. "Divya, why are you smiling like that? I'm going to be honest; you're kind of reminding me of Heath Ledger in Batman. I feel like you're going to ask me if I want to see a magic trick. And then shove a pencil into my brain."

"Ugh!" Divya exclaimed indignantly. "That's a flattering comparison!"

"I'm just stating the facts, Divs."

"You are _not _stating the facts. That is an opinion—an _erroneous _one…"

"Anyway," Evan interrupted. "What's got you looking so happy?"

Divya smirked and said, "Raj lied and told his parents that I'm a sex-crazed alcoholic."

Evan's eyebrows shot up. "Um… That's—uh—" He floundered, looking for something to say. "…That's nice?" he eventually managed.

"So his parents called off the wedding."

There was a momentary silence as Evan processed this. He stared at her disbelievingly, mouth gaping. "Are you serious?" At her vigorous nod, he beamed at her. "So, you're going to stay here? And keep working at HankMed?"

"Ginger's left the position open, so if you want me—"

"Of course I want you!" he cried excitedly. Once he realized exactly how his response could be taken, he quickly amended, "Hank and I want you. For HankMed." He cleared his throat. "So, you're not heartbroken or anything, are you?"

Divya laughed. "No. Far from, actually."

"And your parents aren't going to be jumping off of cliffs anytime soon?"

"Actually, no," Divya said, still in wonder. "They said that they were going to let me make my own decisions now. I can live here, and work in medicine… They even said that I could date whomever I want!"

"Seriously?" said Evan, looking as though he were trying to hide the hope that was written plainly on his face.

"Well… They said that they would support me dating as long as I stick with successful Indians with social status. And no tattoos."

Evan doubled up laughing. After calming down, he cocked his head and said with a small smile, "What about a Jewish certified public accountant from New Jersey? Would they support you dating him?"

Divya's cheeks heated at his words. However, she couldn't let him feel that particular brand of satisfaction this easily. "I don't know if he would make the cut," she teased.

"How about the charming CFO of a flourishing medical corporation located exclusively in the Hamptons?"

"Hmm… That might work, but we couldn't actually tell them that the CFO is _you_."

Evan pretended to be offended. "Why, do they remember me?"

"Yes. Vividly."

Evan chuckled again and, to her surprise, gently laced his fingers through hers. "I just… I have to know," he murmured, brushing her knuckles with his thumb. "Was last night a huge drunken mistake for you? I'd understand if it was."

"No," Divya said quietly. "It wasn't a mistake. Was it for you?"

"No." He looked at her furtively, and then grinned mischievously. "I thought that you didn't approve of mixing business with pleasure."

"I find that I'm constantly evolving," Divya smirked, nudging his shoulder with hers.

"So, um," Evan stammered in what Divya considered to be a very endearing way. "Would it be—just hypothetically speaking, of course—would it be totally weird for someone to ask you out, even though it's been, like, three hours since your engagement has been called off?"

"Hypothetically speaking?" giggled Divya. "Really, Evan? After everything we've—"

"Yes, hypothetically speaking, Divya," he said crossly.

She rolled her eyes and replied, "No. It wouldn't be weird. Hypothetically. Though, with you, anything's possible."

"Huh. Cool." He glanced at her slyly. "Um… So, you and me… Together now? Hopefully staying that way?"

Divya stared at him in a mixture of pleasure and disbelief. "You're not that good at this, are you?" she giggled.

Evan's mouth dropped open again. "Are you really going to criticize me about this? Come on, Divsie…"

Ignoring his protesting, Divya said, "After all the waiting and hoping... All that tension and the unwarranted jealousy… That's really how you're going to ask me out? I just assumed that you'd use a verb somewhere while asking, but I suppose that was expecting too much."

"Look, Divya," Evan said defensively, "This isn't exactly something that I do every day, so could you _please_ just put me out of my misery and answer the—"

"Yes."

"…Yes?"

"Yes."

"…Awesome."

After a minute of silence in which they only focused on the paths that Evan's fingers were searing on Divya's palm and the crash of the waves on the shore, she spoke. "So, are you going to kiss me now or what?"

"What?" Evan squeaked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

"Well, I've observed that in circumstances like this, it's customary for an exchange of affection to occur."

Evan laughed incredulously. "An exchange of affection? Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Look, I understand that you haven't really done this before, but what the hell?"

"Evan, if you can't take this seriously—"

"Whoa, now, Divya," Evan interrupted, wavering between being insulted and amused. "I take making out with you very seriously. It's very high on my list of priorities. Like, first, probably, after food and water and reality TV and stuff."

Closing her eyes and massaging her temples with her free hand, Divya muttered, "I honestly cannot believe that I am subjected to this drivel. Voluntarily, even."

"Besides, Divs, if I ever want to make out with you, apparently all I have to do is volunteer to sleep on the couch. Because, rumor has it, I'm pretty irresistible when I'm chivalrous. All I'll have to do is, you know, slay a dragon or something and you'll sink your teeth into me. Like a lioness."

"Honestly, Evan, you are the most infuriating idiot that I've ever—"

And then he kissed her. So she stopped talking because her mouth was more pleasantly occupied. While their kiss last night had been fierce, this one was slow and gentle. Evan was taking his time, softly skimming his lips over hers, and occasionally nipping her gently.

Divya slid her hands to his shoulders and gripped him firmly in an effort to pull herself against his body. She twisted so that she could push against him harder, aching pleasantly wherever she pressed against him. Evan demonstrated his approval by grazing his tongue over her lips and moaning slightly.

Suddenly, their kiss wasn't quite as gentle. She crushed herself to him with more force as Evan guided her mouth open and slipped his tongue inside. His hands travelled down her back to rest on her hips, trying to pull her to him. However, due the position they were sitting in, they couldn't actually get any closer to each other. Realizing this, Evan stopped kissing Divya and shot a frustrated look at their legs.

Divya took the opportunity to say breathlessly, "You can't just kiss me whenever I say something that you don't like, Evan."

"Mm-hmm," Evan murmured, clearly not listening to her. Instead, he moved the hand that was on her hip to her calves and flipped them over his legs so that she was effectively sitting on his lap. "There we go," he said triumphantly, using their new position to pull her against him tightly and kiss her again.

And Divya knew right then, though she'd be mortified if he discovered it, that Evan had found a place in her heart.

Bulls-eye.


End file.
